


where life begins and love never ends

by BestDeadFriendsForever



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Let them finally be happy, M/M, Multi, Non Treasure Island Compliant, Post-Canon, Technically there's not REALLY graphic violence but there is violence so I tagged it anyway, Treasure Island? Who's she I don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestDeadFriendsForever/pseuds/BestDeadFriendsForever
Summary: Sequel to 'it defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles'He drifted out into their kitchen, still rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, to see Flint, Thomas, and Madi huddled around the table and speaking in hushed voices. A pit formed in John’s stomach. He covered it with a sharp smile. “Good morning loves of my life… and Thomas.” John usually liked teasing Thomas because Thomas could give it just as well as he got. But no snappy response came. They all seemed like children caught with their hands in the sweets jar just before supper. John moved to get himself a cup of tea, the kettle set aside but still warm, and with the crutch keeping him upright it was more difficult but he didn’t feel like putting the boot on just yet. His back was to them as he continued speaking. “And what, might I ask, has you all up and about so early?” It was a pointed question and each of them in the room knew it as John turned to face them, one of Thomas’s delicate teacups in his hand, and raised an eyebrow as he took a sip.





	where life begins and love never ends

Of one thing was John Silver absolutely certain: while he loved James Flint and had a budding affection for Thomas, he entirely _loathed_ sleeping between them. Flint frequently snored and/or mumbled in his sleep, and Thomas kicked like a horse. Thankfully, Thomas was on Silver’s left- insisting that his sleeping position was remnant from his marriage to Ms. Barlow though Silver had a feeling it had more to do with Thomas wanting to be able to slip out of bed without waking anyone after one of his nightmares that kept him from sleeping for the rest of the night and smiling for most of the morning- so John usually didn’t get kicked directly. Though there was that once where Thomas’s knee collided with one of John’s softer parts that had tears pricking at his eyes and his jaw clamped tightly so as not to shout and wake Thomas who would feel incredibly guilty if he ever found out where _that_ particular bruise had come from (everyone working under the assumption that it was from either Flint’s or Madi’s mouth).

Their sleeping positions were rather- in hindsight- convoluted. Thomas was on the far left, Silver next to him and Flint on Silver’s other side, and Madi bookending them on the right. Madi swore it had nothing to do with Silver and everything to do with Flint being a furnace. The perfect body to press her cold fingers and toes into- one of the few things about sleeping next to her that John most certainly did _not_ miss. Though John had, on many occasions, pointed out that Thomas too was incredibly warm at night and so logically if she were that cold she should sleep between the two of them, but she’d just given John a look that said she knew something about himself that he did not know, and that had been the end of that particular discussion.

If John were being completely honest with himself, he didn’t truly hate being between the two of them. Yes, he missed Madi curled into his side and the way her hand always fit so perfectly against the curve of his ribs, but he could easily reach over Flint to rest his hand in Madi’s when he needed her touch. He loved- although he would never admit to it out loud- waking up next to Flint and kissing him awake. And who ese would wake up when Thomas was still reeling from a nightmare and listen to his stories and viewpoints about the world that John had pretty much already heard fall from Flint’s lips at one point or another (though John would never tell him that because he understands just needing to be _listened_ to for a while)?

And besides, no one complained when he sat up in bed suddenly and had to massage a cramp out of his leg, or when they woke up with a mouth full of curls that most certainly hadn’t been there the night before.

John was usually one of the last to wake up and this morning was no different. He vaguely remembered someone giving him a soft shove but it could have been his imagination. He blinked in the strong sunlight that was streaming into the room. Flint always snapped open the curtains when he got up in the morning and no amount of begging- or sexual favors that John had tried- would get him to close them. So when the sun slanted in the window and into John’s eyes he had to get up himself to close the curtains and at that point he might as well get up and stay that way.

He swiped the backs of his knuckles over his eyes and pushed himself to sit up. Usually Thomas was still in bed with him, not even years of early rising for hard labor could disrupt the absolute aristocratic sleeping habits of their Lord Hamilton, but today Silver was alone. Cold tendrils of panic tried to skate up John’s spine but he refused to give them any credence. He looked around blearily for a shirt- more specifically a shirt that was _his_ \- before giving up and just taking one that he was fairly certain was Flint’s. When it turned out to be Thomas’s. because who else out of them was so ridiculously tall, John just left it be. If they shared lovers they could certainly share shirts.

He drifted out into their kitchen, still rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, to see Flint, Thomas, and Madi huddled around the table and speaking in hushed voices. A pit formed in John’s stomach. He covered it with a sharp smile. “Good morning loves of my life… and Thomas.” John usually liked teasing Thomas because Thomas could give it just as well as he got. But no snappy response came. They all seemed like children caught with their hands in the sweets jar just before supper. John moved to get himself a cup of tea, the kettle set aside but still warm, and with the crutch keeping him upright it was more difficult but he didn’t feel like putting the boot on just yet. His back was to them as he continued speaking. “And what, might I ask, has you all up and about so early?” It was a pointed question and each of them in the room knew it as John turned to face them, one of Thomas’s delicate teacups in his hand, and raised an eyebrow as he took a sip.

Flint looked to Madi and John knew by their eyes and the small twitches in the corners of Flint’s mouth that they were having a silent conversation. Though argument would have been more accurate based on the sour look on Flint’s face when they finally looked back at John.

“It’s Billy,” Madi said firmly. “He’s been found and he swears he has a map to the Urca treasure.”

John had to remind himself of Thomas’s fondness for his finer porcelain cups so he didn’t crush it in his hand or slam it down on the counter. John slowly and deliberately put his cup down. “He does now, does he?”

“Silver, now-” Flint began but John’s temper got the better of him.

“Do you not remember what Billy did?” John snarled. “He nearly got the both of you killed!”

“I can handle Billy Bones,” Flint scoffed.

The realization hit John like a stone. “You’re going to go after him. And you were going to go without me.”

“I-” Flint’s ears turned pink under the disheveled waves of copper hair.

“You _fucker_ -!”

“Now, John,” Madi said standing and holding her hands up placatingly. “I didn’t want-”

“Do you really think I’m going to put you in danger because of Billy-” Flint started.

“-you to do anything rash,” Madi continued as if Flint wasn’t speaking.

“I won’t. I’ll just take a skiff-”

“Over my dead fucking body you will!” John shouted over both Madi and Flint. “I made sure everyone thought you were dead for a _reason_ and Billy fucking Bones is going to account for me and that’s the end of it!” John went over to where his boot had been discarded the night before and jammed his foot into it before marching down the stairs, into the tavern, and then out the door. He was nearly down the road before it hit him that he was still in Thomas’s shirt and his underthings. And he didn’t have his sword or his pistols. It would be fairly difficult- though not technically impossible- to kill Billy without those things. So he was going to have to stomp back to the house. Like an idiot.

When he walked in, all three of them were precisely where he left them. He scowled as he sat down in his chair and tossed his boot back towards the door. “Why?” John asked quietly. “Why would you not tell me about Billy?” He lifted his eyes from his lap and leveled Flint with a stormy look.

“Because you didn’t choose anything that came to you. I did. I ran into it and made it so,” Flint said just as quiet as John had been. “One more fight. Just one and it would be the end. There would be no one stupid enough left alive that knew about the treasure to go looking for it, let alone try to find it. And what’s one more?” Flint asked with a humorless smile.

John grimaced. “Billy has done you many wrongs, yes, but I told Billy- I _warned_ him of what would happen if he crossed us, crossed _me_. And he did it anyway. I will not ask you to give up what we have here, even for a little while, for Billy Bones of all fucking people.

“For what we have here, I would fight an army,” Flint said. “Willingly. I am not doing anything that I would no do on my own.”

Thomas finally spoke. “I don’t want either of you to go,” he said, his voice sounding rather small for the first time in the four years that John had known him. “Whatever this Billy did, can it not be let go?”

“Not if he truly has- by some small miracle- gotten a hold of a map,” Madi said. “Too many people died to protect that treasure and all that it stood for. Too many lives of the men that Billy considered his brothers- and then betrayed- are contained in that box.” Madi’s dark eyes were soft as they traced the features of both Flint’s and John’s faces. “I do not want either of you to go, but Flint is the only one that we know of who knows where that box is buried. If both of you go I know I would feel better because I’d know you had the other to watch your back.” She turned to Thomas and took his hand gently. “This goes beyond money and wars. This is about family and how we can keep ours from being broken.”

John felt a lump form in his throat at the word _family_. He’d never had one of those, not truly.

John’s head was already spinning with possibilities as he settled on one. “Three days. I will stay for three more days before leaving.”

“I can be ready then,” Flint said and nodded. John nodded as well.

“Good. Now that’s settled.” Madi’s usual composure had cracked the smallest amount to show the worry underneath. It was again settled into place.

“I should go tell the crew to make ready,” John said. He pushed himself to standing and went back to their bedroom so that he could get himself properly dressed.

Thomas, surprisingly, was the one who came in after him. He sat on the edge of the bed and just watched John flit about the room. It was a familiar routine for all of them. John would strip off whatever clothes he’d been wearing in his sleep- if he’d been wearing anything at all- and then put on the boot. His fingers were clumsy in his agitated state and before he could let out a litany of profanities, Thomas’s warm fingers were gently pushing his away and doing up the buckle. John lifted his eyes to Thomas’s and he could help the frown that pulled at his lips.

“I know what you’re doing, Long,” Thomas said softly, his fingers smoothing over the strap and, inadvertently, the skin of John’s thigh.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” John said defensively with his eyes focused on Thomas’s hands, not indulging in their usual game of ridiculous nicknames.

“Look me in the eye and say that.”

John looked Thomas in the eye but when he went to open his mouth, nothing came out. “I have to,” John said quietly.

“I know why,” Thomas said softly and he hesitated for a moment before he took John’s hands in his own, “but no one wants anything to happen to you either. You’re just as necessary for our continued happiness as James is.”

John hated how his throat constricted at hearing it stated so plainly aloud.

“I’ll be fine,” John said and pulled away from Thomas. He put on a fake smile that exuded confidence that John didn’t feel. “I always am.”

Thomas still looked sad almost before he nodded.

…..

Thomas had known what John was planning to do. But he didn’t say anything to anyone about it until James and Madi came out of the bed where John clearly was missing. John had left while the moon was still fairly high in the sky. He’d been gone for hours now, the sky transitioning from a peach color to the bright blue of early morning.

“He’s gone,” Thomas said. His chest felt tight at those words and at the memory of the very brief but touching hug and kiss that John had given him before leaving. Thomas had tried not to cling, truly he didn’t feel with John that he quite had the right to do so yet, but John had murmured assurances to Thomas as he pulled Thomas’s fingers away from the sleeves of his shirt.

“What do you mean _gone_?” James asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and fury.

“Flint,” Madi said and gently took his hand.

“He _promised_!” James snarled and snatched his hand away from Madi’s comforting grip.

“He lied to protect you,” Madi said. She sounded exhausted. “When did he say he’d be back?” She turned to Thomas.

Thomas blinked. John hadn’t said anything of the sort. “Pardon?”

“When did he say he would be back? He always…” Madi trailed off and her eyes widened. Thomas sucked in a breath and bit his lip.

They’d all come to the same conclusion: John didn’t believe- at least no fully- that he _was_ coming back.

James’s fists curled tellingly and Thomas took a firm hold of his shoulders. “No.” He looked James dead in the eye and held his gaze. “He’ll come back and you can yell at him until kingdom come, but you shan’t go after him.”

“Or what?” James asked quietly. His eyes held a dangerous glint to them that Thomas assumed was the look that had made Captain Flint so feared. But Thomas was not a merchant captain to be conquered or an unruly underling to be intimidated.

“Or I will leave this place and never come back,” Thomas said darkly. “You won’t see me again and I am _not_ bluffing, Mr. McGraw, so I would no suggest testing my resolve.”

There was a long, tense silence between them before James ducked his head and relented. Thomas let out a breath through his nose. While he was completely ready to follow through on his promise, that didn’t mean he _wanted_ to. “Breakfast anyone?”

…..

Madi wished she could say that she couldn’t believe John would leave like that, but in fact she could believe it and wondered why she hadn’t anticipated it. He’d never been one to leave well enough alone. And he’d always acted as if the whole world rested on his shoulders.

She could also see that same sheepish near-guilt in Flint’s eyes as he stood at the window and stared out where the path leading away from their home dipped down and lead to the ocean.

If it were John- or even Thomas- in front of her, she would have gone over and wrapped her arms around them and just held them quietly until the tension bled out of their shoulders. Yet with Flint things were different. He wouldn’t welcome such kinds of comfort. Not yet at least. He needed time to stew in whatever thoughts and feelings were consuming him at the moment. He’d come to her and Thomas when he was ready.

She ran down to start the day at the tavern.

It hadn’t been the type of life that she’d ever envisioned for herself- being seen as a sailor’s wife and keeping house while her husband was away- but she could say that she was content. She was surrounded by people that she loved and she had a purpose. It might not have been the higher purpose that she’d been serving before all of this, but it was _something_. And if some of their profits ended up in the hands of slave resistance groups, then so be it. It wasn’t as if John didn’t _know_ where it went and just pretended that he didn’t.

She kept Flint busy in the kitchens for as long as she possibly could. Only because it would give him something to do and he wouldn’t be scowling at their patrons and scaring them away. And he was a rather good cook. Better than John had been at first according to the stories that she had heard Flint telling. The thought of that cozy night made her smile but it was sharp with longing for John.

She shook herself out of that and made herself give pleasant, but silent, smiles to the group of men who’d just walked in. Thomas usually handled much of the talking, his gentle and natural charisma charmed everyone who entered their humble establishment, and she just ferried things between the kitchen and the seating areas. It was… easier that way. Thomas intercepted them gracefully and led them to a relatively clean but completely empty table. He sent her a small smile and she nodded in response.

…..

James slipped quietly out of bed and move out of their bedroom and towards their sitting room so he could brood without disturbing Madi and Thomas’s sleep. He settled in the window seat that was just high enough to get a good glimpse into the bay. He could see the gap in the rows of ships where John’s ship had been just last night.

The thought of John made a sharp ache go through James’s chest.

John had lied to his face. He’d promised not to leave without him, but John had done so anyway. It hurt and it made James want to jump on a ship and go after him. They should have been doing _all_ of this together. Letting things get between them was what had gotten them into this situation in the first place. Yet… Thomas’s threat lingered like a storm cloud. James knew Thomas well enough to know that Thomas didn’t make empty threats- if he said it, he’d follow through on it because he meant it.

James pulled a blanket into his lap and he sighed, his breath fogging up the window, as he tried not to think about John.

…..

At first, John had been restless. While he knew it was necessary to guarantee Flint’s continued safety, he hadn’t liked how the lie had settled like a lead weight in his gut. Even after a few days at sea, travelling to where Billy had last been heard from, he’d still found himself staring out at where he knew Bristol was waiting quietly. When John had been told- by a smug Hands no less- that Billy had left. The lead in his gut felt heavier than ever.

Flint would be angry.

Thomas would be upset that Flint was angry but overall understanding and sympathetic to John’s logic.

Madi would… well, Madi would be upset at the deception, and most likely would seethe silently in solidarity with Flint.

It would most assuredly be unpleasant for all involved. It always was. But nothing that John couldn’t weather until it passed. A dark part of John’s mind whispered that this might be the time that they decide that they’re through forgiving him for his mistakes, that he’d return to an empty home. But John pushed that dark thought away. He needed to focus.

He studied the chart in front of him and he traced his finger along the worn line that denoted the coastline. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he contemplated his next move. When Hands had spoken to the locals, they’d said that Billy had left on foot so there were only so many places that he would be able to go. John’s eyes kept flicking the short way down the coast to Bristol- back home. Then his eyes caught on something nearby.

He cracked a small grin.

He’d found Billy.

…..

Obviously, John knew that Billy would be expecting him to come in person. Billy would be ready for that. What he wouldn’t be ready for was for John to send someone along first with the black spot. The one that Billy himself had so lovingly attached to Long John Silver’s name all those years ago on Nassau.

So, the spot was sent, and John waited for the right moment to get Billy.

He was sat in a shaded copse of trees as the sun started to slope down in the sky. Hands sidled up next to him, back from his scouting mission, and narrowed his eyes at the inn that they’d found Billy to be staying at. “Seems to be just Billy, the inn-keep and her boy. No one else around for miles,” Hands said quietly.

“You’re sure?” John asked and looked at Hands out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sure,” Hands grumbled and shot John a dark look.

“Well,” John said and he stood, balancing himself with a hand on a nearby tree. “I suppose we should go and greet our dear old friend Billy Bones.” John’s smile was now more of a grimace as he took a rallying breath. “I want the men to know that no harm is to come to the inn-keep or her son. We’re here for Billy and the map and that’s all.” Hands didn’t say anything so John turned to him sharply. “Am I understood?” John snarled.

“I’ll tell the men,” Hands spat back and shook his head. John knew that Hands thought he was too soft, but John wasn’t going to kill an innocent woman and her son just for sheltering Billy.

John was at the head of their group as they made their way towards the inn. John squinted in the dark to read the peeling sign that was hung above the door. _The Admiral Benbow_. John stepped inside, the cold, damp, darkness of the night falling away to reveal a warm and comfortable front room not unlike John’s own tavern back home in Bristol.

A woman, not much older than John himself really, stepped forward with a tired smile. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” She asked and pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes.

“Just something to eat and drink if you can spare it, ma’am,” John said.

“Of course,” she said and nodded. “It’ll be right out.” John gave her a smile and moved to sit in the shaded corner of the room. It was a good vantage point and he wouldn’t be easily recognized by Billy in the dimmer light. John could hear the mistress of the house talking to someone in the kitchen before a young boy no older than eight came out with plates and mugs balanced in his hands. John couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sheer concentration etched into the boy’s face as he made his way over and settled everything onto the table.

“Are you sailors?” The boy asked after a moment of just lingering at the edge of their table.

“We are,” John replied. “And you are?”

“James Hawkins, though everyone calls me Jim,” the boy said proudly and stood up straighter. “I’m the man of the house.”

“I can see that you are, Master Hawkins,” John said, and he couldn’t help but feel the smile tugging further at the corner of his mouth. “And as the man of the house, I wondered if you and I might have a word?”

The boy seemed to blink in surprise as did Hands at John’s indulgence of the lad. “And what sort of business is that?” Jim asked.

“I wondered if you had seen an old friend of ours,” John said careful to keep his voice level and casual. “He’d be rather tall, brown hair, goes by the name Bones. Billy Bones, that is.”

“The captain,” Jim said and nodded. “He’s just upstairs. Should be down any moment. He always has his supper right around this time. Should I go and tell him you’re here?” Jim asked and pointed over his shoulder.

“No. We’d rather like to surprise him,” John said and patted the boy’s shoulder. “Now run along and help your mother. I can tell she needs her big strong boy helping her around.” The boy was positively beaming as he scampered off back into the kitchen.

“Well, that settles that,” Hands said and wiped his hands on his breeches.

“So it does,” John said and his eyes immediately flashed to the top of the stairs when he saw movement.

It was Billy alright. Though he was much changed rom the last time that John had seen him. Billy had always walked with his head up, but now his head hung down and even his shoulders were curled in on himself. He staggered as if he were drunk, and perhaps he was though John could only recall ever seeing Billy drunk perhaps twice at most. He’d always been the one trying to keep the other men from doing so. He’d never succeeded. His hair was longer, though it wasn’t ragged or falling into his face, and he obviously hadn’t shaved. John almost felt sorry for him, until he remembered everything Billy had put them through.

John’s fingers itched to bury his dinner knife into Billy’s throat, but he waited.

Billy slumped into the closest table- he was most likely drunk as well as John could figure- and he looked about the room. John was mostly hidden in shadow, Hands had his back to Billy, and the rest of John’s men-three in total- Billy had never seen before. But Billy was smart. He kept his eyes flicking between the tables mistrusting and he shifted restlessly.

When Jim came in with a plate and a mug for Billy, he was nothing like the cheerful little boy who had served John. He looked fretful and pale as he made his way over to Billy. Like one might approach a rabid dog. “Your supper… Captain,” Jim said and settled everything down in front of Billy and then jumped back as if Billy might bite.

“And who are all these folk, Master Hawkins?” Billy asked, a darkness in his voice.

“Just some sailors, sir. Come in for a hot meal, I suppose.” Jim’s hands were shaking at his sides.

Billy seemed to go pale at that as his eyes leapt from man to man. “Sailors you say…?” Billy asked and all the edge and danger had bled out of his voice to leave it shaking with fear. “And the man we spoke of…?”

“I didn’t see any such man, sir,” Jim said and backed away from Billy. “Honest, I didn’t.”

Billy stared at him and for a moment John wondered if Billy were going to hurt the boy. But he just slumped and shooed the boy away. John took a breath and then nodded to Hands once Jim was safely in the kitchen. John stood slowly and deliberately before stepping into the light.

“It’s time to settle our account, Billy,” John said and stared right at him.

Billy’s head jerked up as if it were on a string. “No,” Billy breathed as he looked at John. “It can’t be.”

“Who do you think sent you the spot?” John asked and took a menacing step forward. “It’s time that you pay for what you did.” Billy stood up jerkily, knocking his chair to the floor with a clatter. Before he could turn to run, two of John’s men had taken a hold of his arms. “I told you what would happen if you betrayed us, Billy. You knew what that would mean.” John stepped forward again. “And you did it anyway. I told you that you would account for me, and you will.”

Billy tried to struggle against the men’s hands but they held him firm.

“What is going on here?” John turned, hand still on the hilt of his sword, to see Mrs. Hawkins standing in the doorway, a wide-eyed Jim behind her as he clutched onto his mother’s skirts.

Hands, before John could say a word to stop him, was over and grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her away from the doorway and into the room. “Hands!” John snapped like one would shout at a misbehaving dog. “Let the woman go.”

“She’ll run out of here screaming and bring who knows what down on our heads. I don’t think so. Not this time, Mr. Silver.”

“We’re here for Billy, that’s all,” John said. “So either you let her go or there will be blood.” Hands and John stared each other down for a long time before he let the woman go. John turned to Billy and he pulled out the pistol from his belt. “And now, this ends,” John said and he leveled the pistol between Billy’s eyes. He pulled the trigger and he didn’t flinch until his men dropped the body into a lifeless pile at their feet.

Mrs. Hawkins screamed and John whirled around just in time to see Hands- against John’s orders- cut Mrs. Hawkins’s throat. The spray of blood hit John in the face and John wanted to vomit at the act of senseless violence. Hands went to grab Jim and that’s when John acted, pulling the pistol off one of his men’s belt and shooting Hands through the back of the skull.

“Find the map!” John ordered his men and they scrabbled to fulfil his order. John waited until they were all gone searching for Billy’s map before he knelt down in front of a stunned and silent Jim Hawkins. “Come here, lad,” John said softly and held out his hand for Jim to take. Jim looked at it for a long time before slipping his small hand into John’s. John took him into the kitchen to get away from the nastiness of the dead bodies and to clean him up.

…..

Thomas was squinting at the numbers in their ledger book and contemplating whether or not he would soon need to invest in spectacles for reading, when there was the sound of someone coming into their front hall. Thomas waited for a moment and listened to the soft step followed by the familiar heavy thud. He cracked a smile before he could help himself.

When he heard the door swing open, he turned in his seat to greet John. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Thomas said and stood, making his way over to where John was hovering- seeming nervous based on the way his eyes kept flicking around the clearly empty room- in the doorway. “I’m afraid it’s just me at the moment. Madi went out to gather supplies and James- well you know James, he wouldn’t let her go… go alone… What is it?” Thomas couldn’t help but find it odd the way John kept glancing around and then back over his shoulder.

Odd and just this side of irritating.

“You can’t tell anyone, not yet,” John said and when he stepped fully into the room, he had the hand of a young boy in his. The boy looked shaken, but unharmed, and Thomas frowned at John in confusion.

“I think I’m going to need an explanation, and if I were you I’d make it a good one.”

“Let me get him settled and then I’ll tell you everything, Thomas. I promise.” John gently tugged on the boy’s hand and they both headed towards the stairs that led up to their living quarters. Thomas reluctantly went back to the ledgers as he kept his ear out for the muffled noises that indicated that John was getting the boy settled. He could already tell that this wasn’t going to go very well once the others got back.

He worked as he waited for John to come back down. When he heard John’s footsteps come down the stairs, he tucked his things away and he wiped the smudges of ink off his fingers before turning to look at John. John looked tired. “Drink?” Thomas offered and waved a hand to the drawer where they all knew that James had stowed a bottle of rum and a set of drinking glasses.

“God, yes,” John mumbled and swiped a hand over his face as he slumped into a chair.

“Why don’t you tell me how the hell you acquired a child before our respective spouses come home and murder the pair of us?” Thomas asked and raised an eyebrow. John took a fortifying drink before sighing heavily.

“It was when we found Billy,” John said quietly and leaned in a little, his forearms on his knees. “We had him cornered, there was no one else in the room. The inn-keep and her son were in the kitchen down a short corridor.” Thomas could tell that whatever else John was about to say was eating at him based on the way he was telling this story. Even in the little day-to-day things, John would spin such a story that all of them- though Madi would pretend to be above such things in that mature and collected way of hers- would be completely enraptured and bewitched by his every word. But this time, it was just a dull recitation of events in the order they happened, it was all cold facts. “She heard the commotion that Billy kicked up, damn fool that he is-was.” John shook his head. “Hands- I _swear_ I told all the men that I just wanted to deal with Billy- he got ahold of her and…” John gestured helplessly, his eyes so open and vulnerable and young for a moment that Thomas’s heart _ached_. “He killed her right in front of the boy’s eyes. And I couldn’t leave him there, Thomas. I just… he would be alone.”

Thomas took a moment to collect his rapidly moving thoughts. First, he obviously needed to comfort John because the other looked so incredibly worn and guilty. “It’s not your fault. You told them not to harm anyone besides Billy, you couldn’t have known.” Thomas took one of John’s hands in his gently and swiped his thumb over the coarse bumps of John’s knuckles. “But what will we do with him? The life that we have here… it’s not conducive to raising a young boy.” Thomas frowned a little. The part of him that was still the idealist that he’d been before Bedlam and all that had followed wanted to have a family. He’d expected to have children with Miranda but hadn’t been overly disappointed when none had come. Part of him wondered if this was his divine sign that revealed his destiny for fatherhood, or if it was simply just a coincidence that John’s man had killed the boy’s mother.

“I know,” John said and he shrugged. “I suppose… I just- for me it’s not that simple.”

Thomas nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t. John never spoke of his past to anyone though they all had a few ideas and assumptions that they could make just based on John’s habits and behaviors. Thomas stood and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of John’s head. “We’ll think of something. I promise you that much.”

John nodded and then he leaned his head against Thomas’s hip and together they just sat there. Thomas let himself gently pet John’s hair as John took whatever it was he needed from Thomas’s presence.

…..

John was upstairs and resting when Madi and James finally came home. Thomas had just finished up with the ledgers- honestly for a man who’d run a ship by himself James had the worst habits when it came to the tavern’s books- but he’d pointed left his and John’s drinking glasses on the edge of the rickety desk. So when Madi and James walked in the doors to greet him, both of their eyes focused on the glasses and then turned upward towards their rooms.

“He’s resting for now,” Thomas said and finally scooped up the glasses to clean them.

“Is he hurt?” James asked and Thomas didn’t have to look at him to know he was clenching and unclenching his hand.

“Didn’t seem to be,” Thomas said. “He was perfectly fine really.”

“Good,” James said, his voice colored only with relief before it hardened into something else. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Thomas easily managed to step into James’s path and put a hand to his chest to stop his husband from storming upstairs. “Let him rest, James. There’s more.” James frowned and he glanced over Thomas’s shoulder for a moment before taking a step back and moving to straddle one of the benches. Madi leaned into James’s shoulder and he set a hand to the side of her leg. “He brought home a boy.”

They both blinked at him, just taking in what he’d said.

“Pardon?” James asked.

“I believe he said that our John has brought home a boy,” Madi said. Her face was set in an unreadable expression as she moved to tuck a strand of hair away from James’s eyes. When her eyes turned back to him, Thomas could admit it made him squirm a little.

“Hands killed his mother,” Thomas said, already thinking of a million ways to make John’s case for him. “The boy would have been alone, you can’t expect John to just-”

“I expected Silver to stay here like we agreed. If I’d have been with him-”

Madi cut James off decisively. “We can’t know what might have happened. Things are the way that they are.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose John doesn’t have a real plan for taking care of the boy?” Thomas gave her a smile and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I see.”

“I didn’t make any promises, I just said we’d think of something,” Thomas said. “Perhaps he can work here in exchange for one of the spare rooms?” Thomas asked. The tavern had once been both a tavern and an inn, but the inn portion was what they used as their living quarters. There would be plenty room for a young boy plus the rooms they needed to keep up appearances.

James’s jaw was clenched shut tightly and he wasn’t looking at Thomas anymore, but out one of the windows. Madi just seemed to be in thought at the proposition, her thumb now stroking soothing circles into the back of James’s neck.

“At least for a little while?” Thomas added.

“I need to speak with John,” James said and pulled away from Madi abruptly. Thomas started to step in front of James again, but the other gave him a look that had Thomas freezing on the spot and letting him pass. Thomas glanced at Madi and they both grimaced in sympathy for John.

…..

Madi went about their normal routine and tried to ignore the raised voices and occasional clatter as- no doubt- Flint and John argued over what had happened. Madi shook her head and after a while of it having not died down, she grabbed one of the pitchers still out on one of the tables from the night before, hitched up her skirts, and stomped up to the bedroom where they were arguing. She threw open the door- neither of them noticing- before she threw whatever was in the pitcher at them.

They both sputtered and turned to look at where she was standing with her hands on her hips. “Are you two quite finished arguing in circles with each other or shall Thomas and I keep this place running by ourselves?” She glanced between the two of them where they were still dripping angrily onto the bedroom floor.

“Madi-” John opened his mouth and then snapped it shut when Madi held up a hand.

“Unless that is going to be an apology, I think it’s best if you just keep that silver tongue behind your teeth.” Madi gave him a hard look to clearly convey her displeasure. John ducked his head. “You owe all of us an apology, and _you_ ,” Madi said and rounded on Flint, “don’t always have to be the one to throw it into his face.”

Flint ducked his head as well.

“Now dry off, get into fresh clothes, and get downstairs to help Thomas finish setting up for tonight.” Her tone allowed no room for argument from either of them and they immediately moved to do as she’d asked. She sighed and wiped her hands on her apron going back downstairs.

“Safe to say they haven’t murdered each other yet?” Thomas asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Not yet,” Madi said and shook her head as she set the pitcher on the bar. “But the evening is not over yet either.” Thomas snorted at that and he smoothed his thumb over her cheek.

“They’ll get over it soon enough. They can hardly stand to be upset with each other for that long. They need the other too much for that.” Thomas’s smile soothed her and she tilted her head to press a quick kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“They’re just both so stubborn,” Madi said despite letting Thomas’s words soothe the worry in the back of her mind.

“And that’s why we love them.” Thomas shrugged helplessly and then the two stubborn idiots in question were coming down the stairs. Madi scowled a little and they both moved, in a show of disapproval, to go back to what they were doing.

John looked between them a little helplessly before slipping his easy smile onto his face. Madi knew he was pretending to be at ease while internally he was worrying and trying to figure out how to fix everything. When she had to pass him, she put a hand to his arm in gentle reassurance. He let out a soft breath at the touch and she gave his arm a squeeze.

“Might I be able to help?”

They all turned to see the boy that John had brought home standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looked nervous as he shifted on his feet.

“I think we’ve got it in hand, Jim,” John said and moved over to crouch, with a wince Madi noticed, in front of the boy. He clapped his hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave him a genuine smile. “But perhaps you’d like some supper?”

The boy nodded and cracked a shy smile.

“Come on then,” John said and he stood with difficulty before leading the boy- Jim- into the kitchen. Madi moved to stand in the doorway, watching how at ease John seemed with Jim. She and John had never discussed having children of their own- but she certainly couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting there with the way he was acting. She bit her lip as he smiled and placed a bowl of stew in front of Jim, ruffling his hair.

“And who are they?” Jim asked around a mouthful, pointing his spoon at where Madi was standing. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed that Thomas and Flint had joined her.

John looked over and he smiled softly in that way he reserved just for them. “This is my wife, Madi,” John said and held his hand out. Madi took it easily, tucking herself into his side. “The taller man is Mr. Thomas McGraw, a dear friend and one of my tenants. He keeps track of the books for me.” John’s eyes sparked with mischief at describing Thomas, but Thomas just seemed touched. “The other man is Mr. James Barlow, another friend and tenant.”

Jim took them in for a long moment and just nodded- accepting it all in the way that small children do. He paused and set his spoon down and narrowed his eyes at Flint. “He’s not a sailor?” Jim asked and there was a small tremor in his voice at the question. “Or him?” He asked and his panicked eyes flicked to Thomas.

“No,” John hurried to reassure him. “Mr. Barlow was once, but… not like _those_ men,” John said darkly. He moved away from Madi’s side to lean his hip against the table so he could look Jim square in the eye. “You won’t have to be around sailors like that ever again, Jim. I promise.” Jim seemed to relax a little at that. John set a hand to Jim’s shoulder and the boy nodded, obvious trust in his eyes when he looked at John. Madi’s heart twisted a bit. There was no way they could get rid of the boy now- not with how fond he was of John and John was of him.

This was going to be a problem.

Especially with Madi’s continued support of the Maroons and John going out on raiding missions with who he’d deemed _those men_ to Jim just now. They couldn’t afford to lose and rehire a whole new crew for the _Walrus_. It would be impossible given what they were trying to accomplish. She shook her head. They’d worry over all that tonight when they sat down to figure things out.

…..

James sat back and he tapped his finger against the arm of his chair as they waited for Silver to finish putting Jim to bed. The boy had lingered downstairs all during the night as the tavern had been open until he’d finally fallen asleep in one of corner tables. Thomas had carefully carried the boy up the stairs after waving off Silver from trying to, but Silver had been rather insistent on getting Jim fully settled.

James broke out of his thoughts to look over at Thomas and Madi, the latter perched in the former’s lap and both of them looking out of the window and down at the street below. Silver came in and closed the door carefully behind him. He glanced between them and moved to sit down and unbuckle his boot, massaging his thigh to stall for time- James could see it in his face.

“What-?” James started.

“I don’t know,” Silver said in response to James’s unfinished question. “I don’t know what I was thinking or why I brought him here. Is that what you want to hear?” Silver asked rather peevishly.

James narrowed his eyes. “I want the _truth_.”

“James,” Thomas said in warning.

James scowled at him and Thomas merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You can’t be alright with this? With having a child- the child of someone one of _your_ men _murdered_ \- around here.”

Silver flinched. “I couldn’t leave him there alone, Flint. There wouldn’t have been anyone to care for him.”

“Do you know that for certain?” James asked. “The boy doesn’t have any family to speak of? Not a single soul will be looking for him? Wondering what happened to him?”

Silver opened his mouth and then shut it.

“James, you’re blowing this out of proportion. John was trying to do what he felt was right,” Thomas said. He gently tapped Madi’s thigh and she stood so that he could move over to James’s side. “Would you rather he have left the boy alone to fend for himself?”

James let out a breath and shook his head. “No… I suppose not.”

“Then what’s this really about?” Madi asked and seemed rather irritated with all of them from where she was curled in the armchair that she and Thomas had been sharing.

James clenched his teeth. “I thought we were past lying to one another?”

Silver sighed and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t-”

“John,” Madi scoffed and he peeked out at her through his fingers before dropping his hand.

“Alright, I lied to you. But I lied to protect you from your own stubbornness. I couldn’t let you put yourself in needless danger for something as fucking stupid as Billy Bones!” John said and he shook his head. “I felt that if something were to happen to me- which I knew was only a very small possibility- that it didn’t matter.” Silver’s shrug had something squeezing in James’s chest. How casually he devalued his own life- his place in _their_ life- made James sick.

“And I told you that that was bullshit,” Thomas said fiercely and he moved to kneel in front of Silver’s chair, caging the smaller man in with his hands on the armrests. “You, John Silver, are one fourth of us. An equal part of us.” Thomas moved his hands from the arms of Silver’s chair to the sides of his face, forcing Silver to look at him. “And if you ever do something so stupid again, I’ll tie you to the bed so you can never do it again.” Thomas was teasing, but it brought a hesitant smile to Silver’s face.

“Promise, Tomcat?” Thomas nodded and he leaned in to press a firm but chaste kiss against the corner of Silver’s mouth.

“So what should we do about the boy?” James asked, suddenly very tired of al the fighting and anger.

“We should find out if he has any family; if he doesn’t, he stays,” Thomas said with an air of finality to it. James balked a little.

“How’re we supposed to raise a child?”

“Like any other family I suppose. With love and affection,” Thomas said and James made a face.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I agree with Thomas,” Madi said and her eyes were soft. “He’s already attached to John and to rip him away such a short time after his mother’s death, it would be monstrous. He’s young enough to be ignorant of such things,” Madi said pointedly looking between James, Thomas, and Silver, “and when he’s old enough to understand and keep it to himself we’ll explain it to him.”

“Besides,” Thomas said with a teasing smirk, “paternal is certainly a good look on you.”

Silver shoved Thomas backwards so that the other lost his balance and fell onto the floor with a soft thud. It didn’t dim the smile on Thomas’s face in the slightest. James looked between them all and he could feel a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he watched the people he loved most in the world bicker.

…..

It turned out that Jim Hawkins did _not_ have any family- except that he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Still not 100% sure on the end, but it seemed a decent place to stop- although perhaps a little abrupt. I hope y'all like this addition to this post-series -verse of mine. I really like the way that the book developed the strange fondness between Silver and Jim Hawkins and I decided to kind of pay homage to that. Comment and tell me what you thought :)  
> -James


End file.
